The Final End
by Elizabeth Patil
Summary: What happens when Harry realizes that HE is the last horcux! Will he go so far as to destroy himself? What will his lover have to say about all of this? HarryOliver Perhaps Harry'll even get to finally meet his mother and father, and see Sirius again.
1. Chapter 1

IT is a sad, sad day for Harry Potter when he realizes what must be done. There is no alternative, no easy way out. Once again Voldemort will ruin his life, only he fears that this time it may be permanent. He might as well say goodbye to Ron, Hermione, Hagrid, Mrs. Weasely, heck, all the Weaselys now. He will miss his lover the most, but somehow the man will manage to get along without him. After all he always has. Perhaps before succumbing he should do something wild, outrageous. Isn't that what people always say they will do if they know that they are going to die. He's too weary now, though, too sick of this fighting, of the endless searching for the horcruxes that no one seems capable of finding.

Well, at least that will end at last. For, if nothing else he has found the last one. The final, one, and yet he can't be happy, for to destroy the horcux he must destroy himself, or rather someone else must destroy him. The ancient magic prevents him from committing suicide. That was something that Dumbledore ensured long ago. Maybe he feared his hero would try and take the easy way out.

It's such a joke. What could the dark lord have been thinking, to save a piece of his soul inside of his worst enemy, the one he tries relentlessly to kill. And, yet it is also brilliant, for in the same way that no one would ever expect Ginny Weasely to open the chamber of secrets, no one would ever expect the last horcux to be the Harry, the hero himself. Tom Riddle wasn't head boy for no reason after all. No one would ever doubt his brilliance.

It is that very brilliance that Harry now wants to curse. Who of his friends should he entrust to kill him, for the good of the world of course, so that the children may sleep peacefully. He couldn't ask Ron or Hermione. No, it would kill either of them, and Harry wanted them at least to have a chance to go on, to make a life after snake face is dead. He wouldn't trust Neville not to mess it up or Hagrid for that matter. Dobby would no doubt try to save him from himself, and Luna, well he couldn't successfully predict her reaction, and therefore must choose another. Remus, poor Remus didn't last long after his friend's deaths, as is the curse of a werewolf, and Madame Pompey couldn't due to her healer status. None of the other teachers did he trust well enough, except perhaps one, but...well he didn't want to request such a thing of Snape, not after he saw the toll it took on the man to fulfill Dumbledore's death request. Either the man would delight in the power and torture him, or become overwhelmed with guilt. He feared that any of the dark lord's men would torture him unmercifully.

It is quite pathetic when you can find no one in this world to trust with your death. For Harry such a task was more tedious than finding those he could trust with his life. He didn't want to have to, but he would have to ask his lover. He could trust none other, and knew the man would be able to live with himself afterwards. He alone knew the importance of Harry's death, and so with a heavy heart, a seventeen year old young man approached his true love to plead for death. And death he did receive…


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Knock! Knock! Knock! Oliver Wood was lounging peacefully in his third-story apartment when he heard someone at the door. He sighed and picked himself up to go and answer the door. Pulling it open he was surprised to see Harry staring back at him.

"Hello," Oliver greeted his lover warmly. "Decided to visit me early, did you? I wasn't expecting you back until at least Tuesday, perhaps Wednesday at the latest. Come in."

Harry entered his lover's apartment, taking in the familiar scene filled with quidditch posters, and dirty clothes strung all over the place. He felt a lump in his throat and wondered if he could really go through with this, if he could ask this of Oliver. Sure Oliver always seemed happy, but there's nothing like killing you lover to dampen your spirit. It needed to be done, though. As sad as it was it was also necessary. Harry has the power the dark lord knew not, and that had to be the power to go through with his. After all, isn't death what the dark lord fears above all else? If Harry conquered his fear of death wouldn't he be able to triumph?

"Harry, I wish you would talk to Ron and Hermione. I know that you are afraid Hermione will get upset what with how dangerous your missions are, but they miss you. You can't keep hiding from everyone as you are. It isn't healthy." Oliver told him.

"Stop Oliver, I have something important to tell you, that will make everything you are saying moot."

"Alright love, go ahead," Oliver replied.

"Oliver," Harry said more calmly than he felt. "I suppose I have a favor to ask of you. It's a very large favor actually, and you have every right to decline. In fact, I'd urge you to think long and hard about your decision before telling me. I wouldn't think any less of you if you said no. I would understand. I promise Oliver, but I still have to ask you. I couldn't go on with myself if I didn't at least…"

"Harry, what is it? Just spit it out. I hate to see you get like this."

"Oliver, will you…will you…" and that's when for the first time in Oliver's memory, Harry broke out into full-fledged tears. His face was soon soaked as he noisily wailed out his pain. Oliver gently took him into his arms, and hugged his lover, seeking to remove the pain and sadness from those bright green eyes. Oliver knew it must be something awful, something terrible to reduce the bravest person he ever knew to tears.

"I wish I could take your pain away," he told the smaller man sadly.

"I know," Harry sighed. "I found the final horcux," Harry continued sadly.

"That's great!" Oliver hugged his lover enthusiastically before noticing his still sad expression. "Isn't it?"

"Oliver if you had a chance to save the world, but if in doing so you would have to leave everyone you loved behind, would you go through with it? Would you do it?"

"Harry, what is this all about?" Oliver asked frightened for the dark-haired man. "You, you don't plan on leaving me or something, do you?"

"Not by choice, not by choice." Harry muttered.

"Harry, I think you need to tell me the whole story now. Start to finish, don't leave anything out." Oliver demanded with a sacred glint in his eyes.

"Oliver, the last horcux, I've finally figured it out. I have one from each founder, the sword, the cup, the tapestry, and the ring. There's Nagini, and his current body too. The only thing left, the only conceivable place he might store part of his soul…And I tested it too. I did the spell just to be sure, so as not to make a fatal, yes fatal mistake. And, Oliver, I was right. The one time I wished with all of my being to be wrong, I of course just had to be right. Oliver, I'm the last horcux."

Oliver, stunned looked at the small man in his brawny arms. Why does it always have to be Harry who suffers? Why did he have to loose his lover? He knew it would be a risk to date Harry Potter, but he hope, no prayed that they could see the end of this war out, and still have each other. Now it looked like his dreams would never come true, his poor, poor Harry.

"Oliver, that's not all."

"It isn't" Oliver wondered what could possibly be worse then losing the love of your life.

"You see, I need help to die. I can't just commit suicide. The spell wouldn't work properly. I need someone else to do it for me. Another person must destroy all of the horcruxes and then say the final spells killing off Riddle's spirit. Oliver, I came here, not just to say goodbye, but also to ask for your assistance. I know it's a lot to ask, but will you help me?"

"You, you want me to kill you." Oliver asked astounded.

"Don't think of it like that, love. It's just that I trust no one else to do it, and be able to go on with their lives. You're strong, Oliver, I believe in your ability to overcome such a deed, and live a happy life in the peace after the war. I don't know if anyone else could do that, at least anyone else who wouldn't torture me before killing me."

"I, I, this is a lot to take in Harry. I don't want to be responsible for your death, but at the same time, are you sure it's the only way to end this war?"

"It is. I am certain there is no other way. I wouldn't ask otherwise," Harry informed him solemnly.

"Well then. It would seem I don't have much of a choice…" Oliver drifted off. "I suppose, how do you want to do it?"

"How do I want to do it?" Harry asked.

"I mean is there a certain way the, the horcruxes must be destroyed or do you have a way in which you'd like to die." Oliver questioned.

"It doesn't matter how precisely," Harry assured him, "and I always wanted to follow Sirius through the veil. Perhaps, you could push me through. I believe that would work."

"Are you going to tell anyone else?" Oliver asked.

"I don't think I could bear it," Harry sighed. "No, I'll write out notes, as inadequate as that would be. I can't risk them trying to persuade me not to go through with it. I knew, you on the other hand would understand."

"Come on, Harry," Oliver beaconed "I just want to sleep now. We'll worry about the details in the morning."

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	3. Chapter 3

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The next morning Harry rose early and limberly climbed over Oliver's body to get out of bed. It had been a good night, a final farewell, but it only seemed to make Harry sadder than he had been before.

With a sense of purpose Harry scrounged around the messy disorganized drawers of Oliver's desk, looking for parchment, a quill, and some ink to write his friends. Finally he located an intact quill buried under the pile of broken ones. The ink bottles were mostly dry, though, and Harry was exasperated. Even he wasn't as messy as his lover, and after leaving the strict household of Petunia Dursley, Harry had become mighty messy himself.

Yes! Thank goodness, Harry thought finally finding a partially wet ink well. Grabbing a piece of parchment, Harry set out the complete his letters, but soon found the task easier said then done.

Dear Ron,

I have to go away for a while. I won't be coming back you see I've asked Oliver to kill me.

No, No, No! Frustrated beyond belief Harry finally tore the letter he'd been slaving over for the last twenty minutes to pieces. How was he meant to explain everything? He couldn't say…

Hey Hermione

I've decided to off myself for the good of mankind and begged Oliver to help. I guess I won't see you at Yule this year, but have a good time anyway! Bye for forever.

Best Wishes,

Harry Potter

Looking at a pervious mad attempt to writing Dumbledore, Harry laughed at his own stupidity.

Dear Professor Dumbledore Sir,

I found the last horcux and now know that I must end my own life so that others may continue theirs'. Don't worry about me Sir. I'll be alright. I am used to sacrificing myself for your bloody war. After you shipped my off to the Dursley's it isn't as if I had much of a life. You must be proud of yourself sir after all who was it that kept sending Tom Riddle back to the orphanage. Now another innocent life will perish at your hand. I hate you!

Oops, perhaps Dumbledore wouldn't appreciate this rant.

In the end Harry decided to keep it formal, added an apology that things had to end this way, and kept any hurtful feelings to himself. He figured if he was going to be seeing his parents soon he didn't want any added sins hanging over his head. Carefully he folded and labeled each letter before tying them all to Hedwig's leg for delivery.

Before letting her fly off, Harry gave Hedwig an extra pat and petted her smooth glossy feathers. It would be the last time he would ever see Hedwig, too. That is, as long as everything went as according to plan.

Oliver stepped into the living room of his apartment where Harry was writing his letters and slid down next to his lover. "How are you feeling?" Oliver asked in an unusual display of emotion.

"Fine," Harry muttered. "I just finished the letters, so we should be able to proceed now. Actually it would probably be best to get it over with before anyone receives their letter. I don't want anyone to come over and try to convince me not to go through with it."

"O-okay," Oliver's voice cracked. He couldn't help but love the green-eyed man even more for what he was doing, the sacrifice he was willing to make. It was the goodness, the pureness that first drew him to Harry. He couldn't help but fall madly in love the raven-haired boy would grew into the man before him. It was more than quidditch, probably the only thing in his life that meant more than quidditch. Sure it helped that Harry was graceful and talented in the air, but truly that was only the beginning of what drew him to the man. He'd dated more talented players when he was in the professional league. No, it was Harry himself that attracted Oliver.

"We better head out," and without a backwards glance Harry walked over to the fireplace, grabbed a handful of floo powder and shouted, "Ministry of Magic." Oliver followed not too far behind.

As he landed on the cold stone floor of the ministry building's entrance he looked around for Harry. He found him a pile of limbs and robes on the ground, obviously having maintained his inability to use the floo safely. Suppressing a grin from his beautiful lover's clumsiness, Oliver quickly grew serious, remembering the purpose of this visit.

Without a word, Harry took off down the winding halls of the ministry, completely bypassing all the normal security checkpoints. Harry was given free access to the ministry as the war grew more heated and he needed to travel quickly between Hogwarts and the Auror's training rooms. In no time at all they arrived at one of the magical elevators and pushed button twelve to go down to the unspeakable's department where they kept the veil of death.

Luckily no one was about to question them. It was around noon, and most employees were on their lunch break. Those who weren't were too busy hurrying off to lunch themselves. Before long they had traveled through the maze of traps in the department of mysteries, and were looking upon the forbidden scrap of black cloth. It seemed to whisper, in much the same way as it did when Harry had last looked upon it.

Harry turned towards his lover, and reached in for their last kiss. It was sorrowful, containing all of the loss and hurt, and sadness the pair felt. They didn't need words, that one kiss said in all.

Silently Harry stood in front of the doorway to the underworld or the next greatest adventure if Dumbledore can be believed. Swallowing thickly Oliver grasped Harry's robes before thrusting him forward into the dark depths of the endless black abyss.

What Harry hadn't planned for, and even Oliver hadn't considered, prior to his execution of said event, was that in the step it took to push Harry that he would trip over his own robes. With a loud crash and a blinding force of white light, both Harry and Oliver were absorbed by the veil of death.

With Harry gone, the last piece of Voldemort's soul was destroyed. In a far off forest somewhere in the wilderness of Africa the vessel that held the being known as Tom Riddle imploded, as the forces of nature recognized that his soul had gone onto the next world.

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	4. Chapter 4

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**Previous Chapter:**

_With Harry gone, the last piece of Voldemort's soul was destroyed. In a far off forest somewhere in the wilderness of Africa the vessel that held the being known as Tom Riddle imploded, as the forces of nature recognized that his soul had gone onto the next world. _

**Chapter 4:**

Two months prior the Harry's trip into the veil, Harry's disappearance:

When Voldemort (sorry He-who-must-not-be-named) was finally gone forever naturally Harry assumed that everyone would rejoice and the wizarding world at large would become a happier and safer place. That was the main motivation behind his plan to find every single last horcux and destroy it, no matter how difficult. He also was a self-sacrificing hero, and didn't think about the time and energy he exhausted to remove Voldemort.

In fact Harry had been working so hard of late and had isolated himself from his friends to such the extent that it was several days before anyone had even noticed his disappearance, and Ron and Hermione weren't the first. Harry disappeared to everyone, except his lover, Oliver, whom he still secretly kept in contact with, as he couldn't bear to be apart from him. Oliver pleaded with Harry to stay in contact with his other friends, but Harry was determined. He knew that Hermione did not agree with need to remove the horcuxes by any means, no matter how dangerous. He feared his friends would stop or slow down his mission, and that was just not acceptable.

Oddly enough, the person who first noticed the disappearance of Harry Potter was a complete stranger to both him and to the wizarding world as well.

Lenny Williams was your average salesman. Along with his brother, John Williams, he owned a very respectable carpeting store and spent his working days selling rare and majestically detailed carpets and rugs as well as the standard (and cheaper) fuzz mats that most people seemed to want to throw on their floors.

One day, Lenny had been manning the shop, when an odd fellow approached him at the counter. The man was rather short, he remembered with piercing green eyes and a shifty manner. He politely enquired if the man needed any help.

"Sir, that old antique carpet over there, the one depicting a man flying over the moon, you see, I've spent years now searching for it, years and years, and I simply must have it!" the green-eyed man told him frantically.

"Why sir that's grand," Lenny replied, "It truly is a beauty sir, and very rare. It happens to be going for $999 now, a rare deal, but for such an enthusiast as yourself, I'll sell it for $500!"

Lenny happened to think he was a very good salesman indeed, and was proud to be selling an old molding carpet that had been hogging floor space for ten months now, without one prospective buyer. In fact customers seemed almost frightened of the old rag. Some claimed it glowed oddly and other claimed the man over the moon seemed to watch them move about the store. Why just the other day John had been telling Lenny they had to get rid of the thing, loss or not!

"Sir, there is a slight problem with this. I happen to have only $100 cash at the moment. I realize the carpet is worth much more and that surely this must be a loss for you, but it is my grandmother's birthday next week and this carpet would be very important to her." The man insisted sadly. "My credit card has expired or I would charge it," he frowned.

"Look here, perhaps you could pay what you can now and pay the rest later, with a bit of interest added on, you understand," Lenny suggested hopefully. After all, interest on $500 would add up, especially for a rug he never thought he'd sell. "Just list your phone number address here, ok and I'll need to see identification…"

The man quickly gave the salesman false identification, as he did not plan to be around long enough to pay the later monthly payments. Quickly he left with his carpet, accidentally leaving behind his false id card.

Lenny would probably always remember the sucker who paid too much for the rotting old creepy rug. He would especially remember, because when he went to call the man the next day to tell him that he left an id card, he realized that the number the man had given him claimed to be out of service, and upon calling the phone company had been out for months now.

Lenny was angry and upset. He hated being the sucker. It wasn't the money. It was the principle of the thing. He couldn't stand for someone to pull one over him. His brother John had even less tolerance, and suggested that he give the man's false address over to the police.

Officer O'Neal received a case about a man named Harry Jameson who had given a false phone number and wasn't paying his bills. These cases become so routine. The man probably was a no-good-nick who had forgotten to pay his phone bill. He probably hadn't even realized, and yet now it was up to him, Mike O'Neal to sort it out. How Boring!

Upon reaching the apartment listed he discovered that it had been abandoned. No one in the surrounding building had ever seen the man. Perhaps it was a false address. Mike was mystified, and yet worried that this had developed into a much more complex case, one for which he certainly did not have the qualification the deal with. Higher authorities would have to be told.

Lenny and John Williams were told a month later that he was assumed dead. In any case a missing person who left under mysterious circumstances.

Considering his fame and importance to the wizarding world Harry would have found it odd that the first to guess he was missing would be a muggle who was upset at him for not fulfilling his payments for the second-to-last horcux. It truly was a hideous rug. Harry was glad to destroy it. Lenny Williams had unknowing helped to save the world by selling him that rug cheaply and made himself $100 in the process.

With the decrease in dark activity some of wizarding world dared to hope it was the end of the world. The disappearance of Harry Potter led to many rumors about Harry's defeat of the Dark Lord. Of course these rumors were never proved and many still believed that he lurked out there somewhere.

Harry's disappearance wouldn't be understood until Hermione and Harry's other friends received messages that Hedwig faithfully bore, months and months after his disappearance.

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	5. Chapter 5

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Previous Chapter:

_What Harry hadn't planned for, and even Oliver hadn't considered, prior to his execution of said event, was that in the step it took to push Harry that he would trip over his own robes. With a loud crash and a blinding force of white light, both Harry and Oliver were absorbed by the veil of death._

With Harry gone, the last piece of Voldemort's soul was destroyed. In a far off forest somewhere in the wilderness of Africa the vessel that held the being known as Tom Riddle imploded, as the forces of nature recognized that his soul had gone onto the next world.

Hermione Granger or rather Hermione Weasely as she was now known sat at her kitchen table idly looking out the window, and waiting for her lay about husband, Ronald, so that she could make breakfast. Later may they could go visit Mrs. Weasely who'd been begging the couple to come visit her more often.

Flying quite quickly towards her window was Hedwig, Harry's owl. Curiously, she opened the window and let Hedwig in, wondering what Harry wanted so early. Tearing open the letter labeled with Harry's messy scrawl, Hermione read:

_Hey Hermione_

_I've decided to off myself for the good of mankind and begged Oliver to help. I guess I won't see you at Yule this year, but have a good time anyway! Bye for forever._

_Best Wishes,_

Harry Potter

"What in the world," she wondered, "off myself for the good of mankind?" Harry isn't usually the type to attempt humor. "He didn't get himself into more trouble did he," she pondered.

"Morning, Mione," Ron yawned. "What's for breakfast?"

"Ron! Look at this letter, you don't suppose this was the twins' idea of a bad joke do you?"

"I wouldn't put it past them," Ron muttered as he grabbed the letter Hermione offered him. Reading the letter, Ron frowned looking more and more confused and maybe even worried.

"I dunno. It's not really the twin's style. As cruel as they are, I don't think they'd joke about Harry's death. They always seemed to like him."

"DEATH" Hermione shrieked. "I just figured he meant that he went away for a while or something! Oh no! Is Harry dead, Ron?" Hermione sobbed hysterically.

"For someone so smart, you sure can be clueless, Hermione. Of course that's what 'off myself' means. Does this mean that I knew something that you didn't know? Ha! I knew something you didn't know!"

"Focus, Ron, focus! Harry might be dead, and all you can do is gloat about being right for once!" And with that parting yell, Hermione spun around and darted over to the fireplace throwing floo powder, as she yelled out "Hogwarts, Professor Dumbledore's office."

Shrugging, and feeling rather confused on the whole, Ron quickly followed her. He was sure it must be a joke, and was rather amused at Hermione's antics. After all, Harry wouldn't kill himself. He loved Oliver too much. He'd just gotten Ron to accept their relationship. Ron was sure Harry wasn't about to throw it all away now.

Meanwhile, in the veil of death, Harry was feeling rather confused. He had expected a glowing white misty swamp, or perhaps a dark dreary field. What he hadn't expected, was to land face first onto the cold stone floor of what appeared to be an unused room of some sort. School desks, and chairs were dusty, with ages of abandonment and the room had an eerily quietness about it.

A second later Oliver appeared as well, smacking right into his bewildered boyfriend.

"O-Oliver," Harry exclaimed incredulously! "How – I thought only I was meant to die," he looked at his love accusingly. "Why did you follow me? I trusted you to be able to get over my death and go on living."

"Oh Harry, I could never get over your death. I was willing to kill you for your own sake, not because you didn't matter enough to me. I only wanted to fulfill your wishes. But, honestly, I didn't follow you on purpose. I um...tripped."

"YOU TRIPPED! Tripped right into death, what a joke!" Harry laughed. "Well I am glad for your company, even if it does make me selfish," Harry told the burly older man.

"I wonder why we're here, and also where 'here' is," Oliver said studying the vacant classroom intently. "Well, my little friend, I suppose we should explore. You're the expert adventurer. Lead us to our destiny, young hero."

"Stop that," Harry complained with an amused smile. "This way," he lead Oliver into a hallway, which appeared to lead into numerous abandoned classrooms similar to the one they had just left.

"This place looks sorta like Hogwarts," Oliver muttered. Following along the hallway the duo saw that the odd place they had appeared in, seemed more and more like the Hogwarts that they both grew up in. The abandoned feel of the section they first appeared in also disappeared. Walls were covered in portrait, that seemed oddly familiar, but surely this couldn't be Hogwarts. They were supposed to be death, in limbo, or the underworld at the very least.

"This is the charms corridor," Harry exclaimed with confidence. "But it isn't quite is it?" he said turning to his equally mystified lover.

Turing around a corner Harry just saw the edge of a young woman's robes before she entered a classroom. "Hello there," Harry called loudly in attempt to grab her attention. The woman though paid him no mind, either not hearing him, or thinking nothing of his address.

Harry and Oliver quickly sped up to the classroom that she had entered, and Harry realized that it was the same room that he had had his first charms lesson in. She had left the door ajar, and so when the couple entered the room, Oliver gruffly cleared his voice to come to her attention.

When she was fully turned around, the couple froze, as green eyes met green. No one said a word. Lily Potter stared into the eyes of her son for the first time in a long time for all parties involved. Oliver too stared at the women who gave birth to his love. None of the three had a clue how to proceed.

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